


Can't Keep Me Down

by Kittenly



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: And Kaidan is there because I say so, Andromeda AU, Andromeda is not prepared to handle Shepard, Crack, F/M, Grace Shepard - Freeform, Humor, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Shenko - Freeform, Shepard and Kaidan are the most old-married-couple, Shepard has woken up post ME3 in Sara Ryder's place, f-shenko, fshenko - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 12:06:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13053654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittenly/pseuds/Kittenly
Summary: Andromeda just doesn't do assassination attempts like they did back in the Milky Way...Shepard doing what Shepard does best: falling off things, being stupidly hard to kill, and shouting people into submission.





	Can't Keep Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Quick context of this dumb AU:
> 
> -Shepard wakes up in Ryder's place at the beginning of MEA. Physically, she's herself, but aged down to be Ryder's age. Everyone knows her as Grace Ryder.  
> -Kaidan woke up in Andromeda with a group of colonists. He's also been aged down a bit, but he still has his name.
> 
> This fic is heavily inspired by the mission "Bad Trip" from Saint's Row 2.

The only good thing about Kadara was the hot springs. That and the hot water they provided to the shitty collection of prefabs that made up Kadara Port. Reyes had been kind enough to let Shepard wash up in his apartment after coming back from traipsing through the geothermal soup that was this planet. Hopefully now, with the vaults activated, it would calm down a little. A little less likely to flash boil you, or melt your skin, or dissolve your bones, or whatever other creative ways it liked to kill people.

And then the whole planet could just become one giant hot spring hotel, complete with showers like the one she was in. Somewhere she could let the pressure pound against her back and drown out her thoughts.

But such bliss was a temporary thing, and in this case obfuscated the real dangers of the world. Such as three men appearing in the tiny bathroom. But with the water roaring over her ears and eyes shut, she couldn’t sense them.

She could sense the baseball bat just fine.

It cracked against the back of her skull and she went spinning to the metal floor. The world whirled wildly, and she moaned as three sets of arms picked her up and hauled her out of Reyes’ apartment. She tried to struggle, but they held something over her nose and mouth.

Shepard’s last thought before blackness took her was that Reyes needed some serious investment in his security system.

* * *

 

“God, I thought I swore I’d never try Ryncol again,” Shepard groaned as she started to come to. Her head ached something awful. After a moment of fighting, she managed to pry her eyes open, and immediately regretted it. They were in some sort of ship or shuttle--a nice one-- and the slight movement sent the whole world tilting off its axis. Shepard went with it, collapsing into the arm of a large, human man. He eyed her with disdain as she struggled to sit back up. It wasn’t going well.

“Wow you...have big arms,” she said. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton and she couldn’t really swallow. The man shrugged her off, and she managed to throw out her arms and catch herself before she tumbled back into the man on her other side. She noticed as she flailed that she was wearing something purple and fuzzy. At least they’d bothered to put a bathrobe on her. How considerate.

An oily voice slinked through the ship. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing the face of the one who has been so...inconvenient to my operation.” God, he sort of sounded like Udina. “So far I have to say, I’m not overly impressed.”

With an effort of will and more than a little swaying, Shepard made her eyes focus on the figure at the far end of the ship. He didn’t cut that imposing a figure, though that might have been the room spinning.

“Who. The fuck are you?” Shepard slurred. Damn, whatever they had dosed her with was strong stuff. She had one hell of a constitution, even without her Cerberus upgrades.

“I go by many names, none of which will matter when you’re dissolving in the bottom of a sulfur spring. The Charlatan’s only in power because the Nexus backs everything your pretty little ass does. With you gone, the Nexus fucks off and Kardara Port is as good as ours.”

If he was hoping for Shepard to be intimidated, he was going to be disappointed.

She turned to one of the guards next to her. “Do you hear this guy?” She asked with disbelief. The guard did his best to ignore her. She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand and almost missing. The two guards on either side of her stiffened and their hands tightened on weapons.

“Well so far it's a pretty ssshit plan,” Shepard continued. “Why am’nt...aren’t I dead yet then?”

“I need something from you.”

“A’ fucking course you do,” Shepard said, somehow managing to sound annoyed through the word slurry coming out of her.

“The Charlatan’s identity.”

“And why would I give you that?”

“It’s the only way you _might_ get out of here alive.”

Shepard tried to roll her eyes but sort of rolled her whole head. It made her even more dizzy.

“Look buddy,” she said and pointed at him. “I'm not scared of you.” She turned to the guard sitting by her. “I'm not scared of you.” Then the second guard. “And I'm not scared of you. So counter pro-po-sal,” Shepard said, barely making it through the three syllable word. “You take me back, we throw you in prison, and you don’t die.”

The man seemed annoyed at Shepard’s lack of complicity, but carried on.

“I’m sorry you’re not amenable to my offer,” he said, and raised his gun. “Farewell Pathfinder. They won’t find your body.”

The bang when off, but at the same instant, Shepard threw out a tiny pulse of biotic energy. It wasn’t very strong--her head was still full of fuzz and her amp was a little rattled from being hit in the head--but it was enough. The bullet diverted, skimming her cheek, but doing no real harm. With a flick of her wrist, her omnitool flashed out, and she deployed her overload macro. The bolt of energy flew across the car and slammed into the leader.

The second he was attacked, the bodyguards moved, pulling their own guns on Shepard. But the shuttle was cramped for the big men, and Shepard managed to get under one’s arm. She got one hand on his pistol and with the other arm, drove her elbow back into the man’s gut. On reflex, his grip loosened. Shepard took control of the gun and shot the second bodyguard straight in the chest.

By now the electric shock had worn off and the leader, who ever he was, drew his arm up again to fire. But when the bodyguard had slumped to the floor, Shepard hadn’t stopped moving. Her omni tool was out again and another overload burst shorted out the shuttle’s electronic door locks. The door bounced open in the wind.

As she scrambled for the new opening, the bodyguard who’s gun she’d taken had mostly recovered and grabbed her in a choke hold. Or tried to grab her. Shepard was loose and floppy against him, and that made her difficult to keep a hold of. All it took was a swift headbutt to his nose and she fell free, rolling towards the exit.

She didn’t even hesitate to drop over the edge onto the refuse strew ground of the Port. By this point, there weren’t a lot of things she _hadn’t_ fallen off, out of, or through. She was a falling pro. And the drugged looseness of her limbs only helped her land without tensing.

But a good landing didn’t mean a painless or graceful landing. A few citizens shouted in alarm as a small human meteor smashed into a pile of food crates, crushing the plastic containers and their contents. She tumbled through the dirty streets before finally landing in a heap. The shuttle whirled overhead and Shepard had to scramble to avoid the gunfire raining down. Her tech armor flickered to life around her, giving her some sort of protection over the bathrobe.

She half stumbled half fell into cover between some of the prefabs. There wasn’t an angle on her from above--if these bastards wanted to finish her, they’d have to come get her.

She was focusing so hard on watching the opening through her swirling vision that when SAM spoke to her she nearly jumped out of her skin. She never got used to the AI in her brain, and had established heavy limitations on how much he could integrate with her.

“The Tempest is trying to raise you, Pathfinder,” said SAM.

“Huh?” she said. There a flicker of movement. A biotic orb appeared around her hand as she waited for them to make a move. When the thug poked their head in she flung it. Her aim wasn’t perfect and it was only a glancing blow, but it was still enough to make them spin off to the side.

“Lemme talk to them,” Shepard said.

The line opened and she heard Jaal speak. “Ryder, there’s some sort of attack. People are trying to take the Tempest!”

“Huh,” Shepard said absently. “Guys my head...feels soo big.”

There was a confused silence, during which the only sounds were some sort of shuffling. Finally Kaidan’s voice came over the line.

“Grace--”

God his voice was sexy. “Hey-y, soldier boy,” she said.

“Are you _high_?”

“Kaidan.”

“Hmm?”

“Kaidan.”

“Yeah?”

“ _Kaidan._ ”

“Oh my god-- _what_?”

Shepard burst into giggles punctuated every so often by a snort. “They’re trying to assassinate me. _Me._ ”

“You are definitely high.”

“So high,” Shepard agreed. “Dunno what they drugged me with, but it’s _great_.”

From the background, she heard Cora say, “My god. We’re going to die here, aren’t we?”

“Where are you?” Kaidan asked

“I told you: hi-igh,” she said, drawing out the word.

“Helpful,” said Kaidan with a nearly audible eyeroll. “Can you get to the Tempest? They got us in a bad spot.”

“See this is what happens when you don’t put fuckin’ guns on your shit. I mean ship.”

“Grace. Focus.”

Focusing was hard when the world was doing cartwheels. “Yeah,” she said finally. “I can get there.” 

* * *

 

Jaal had never seen the Pathfinder so much as tipsy, let alone this intoxicated. And with a small army of pissed off gang members between her and the ship, he was understandably concerned for her safety. So it baffled him why Alenko, who obviously cared for the Pathfinder a great deal, seemed nothing so much as exasperated. Perhaps he was just covering his fear to help keep their leader calm as she headed for danger. That was probably it.

While they waited for an update, Jaal approached the human.

“I know this must be stressful,” he said kindly.

“Hmm?” Kaidan said looking up.

“You must be so worried. But you are not alone--we all care for her.”

“Uh, thanks,” Kaidan said uncertainly. “But…” he shrugged and gave an enigmatic smile. “I’m not particularly concerned.”

Jaal glanced around. They were in the bay, weapons drawn in case they had to fend off boarders. Liam’s dirty couch had made an appearance as makeshift cover. At the moment, they were in no real danger, as their attackers couldn’t get the doors to drop. Not for a lack of trying--SAM informed them about each incoming cyber attack trying to override the lockdown. Nevertheless, they were essentially trapped by the number of people harrying the ship. How could someone not be worried?

“Humans,” he sighed. “You have no need to hide your true feelings. It’s alright to be frightened.”

A ponderous expression crossed Kaidan’s face, and Jaal thought he might actually be getting through to him. And maybe if he could get through to one human, he could find a way to help the lonely Pathfinder.

“Huh,” Kaidan said. “I guess I hadn’t really noticed how skewed my perception of ‘dangerous’ has gotten. What’s a couple dozen half-trained assholes really going to do?”

“I could answer that question, but I think they might soon do it for us,” Jaal said, irritated at the direction Kaidan had taken his advice.

The comm clicked back on.

“Kaidan.”

Kaidan sighed. “We’re not doing this again.”

* * *

 

Shepard picked over the unconscious and/or dead forms of her attackers, seeing if she could filch anything of value from them. She was left disappointed.

“Kaidan,” she said into the comm.

“We’re not doing this again,” he said. “What do you want?”

“There’re some guys. With stuff. Tryin’ to find something useful.”

“Any luck?”

Shepard gave a disgusted growl. “No. How fucking long does it take for this stupid galaxy to athem...assemble a proper merc outfit?”

“Dunno. Do they have weapons?”

Shepard plucked a Predator pistol from the heap. “Don’ think these deserve the praise. Stupid Elanus piece of crap.”

“Grace, just take the gun.”

She tossed it over her shoulder without a second thought. “No way am I gonna use that dumb shit pistol,” she said. “Won’t settle for anythin’ less than a Carnifucks.”

“Can you find one?”

“No,” she said, kicking one of the unconscious forms and resuming her stumbling journey towards the Tempest. “All Predators all aroun’.”

“Grace, please just--”

“I’m Commander fucking _Shepard_. I do what I want.”

Shit. She wasn’t supposed to say that. She was supposed to be Ryder.

Thankfully, per usual, Kaidan didn’t miss a beat.

“All right ‘Commander Shepard,’” Kaidan said, though he couldn’t keep the smile from his voice. “Get your ass back here in one piece.”

“Why? You want my ass, soldier boy?” she said, and made herself snort with giggles.

“Think you know the answer to that one,” he said, somehow managing to keep an even voice.

Shepard had left the outskirts where she’d landed and was almost to the city proper. People stopped and stared, then in some cases had to leap out of the way as a fuzzy purple comet flew up the streets. Gun fire popped in the distance and Shepard put on more speed. Only her forward momentum kept her from falling ass over teakettle.

The ground went from dirt to metal beneath her bare feet. A customs agent was foolish enough to step into her approach.

“Ma’am,” he said, with more than a little alarm. “We’ve got a situation. Please wait somewhere safe until we get it under control.”

When she showed no sign of stopping or even slowing, he braced, preparing to catch what he expected to be a full body tackle. He wasn’t prepared for a little burst of particles to shoot from her omni tool, flash freezing the floor beneath him. All she had to do was shoulder check him to send him sprawling to the floor. She didn’t slow down at all as she threw herself through the hangar door.

A distinct silence erupted as Shepard stumbled to a halt. A good twenty thugs were climbing all over the ship, some had been working on omnitools, other had been trying to force emergency hatches open with brute strength. All now stared at her.

“Get the hell away from that ship,” she shouted, her voice automatically dropping into her “Commander” register. A few thugs shared confused glances, others just continued to gape.

“No one else has to get hurt today,” she continued. She took a few steps forward, and with every one she seemed a little taller, a little more impressive. “You step away now, we don’t have a problem. You get to go home, to families and friends. Nothing hurt but maybe your pride.”

One of the men twitched, raising his gun. Shepard turned the full force of her attention to him.

“Stand. Down,” she commanded. Her voice carried through the bay so forcefully it almost had physical weight. “Your boss couldn’t kill me when he got the jump on me. Unarmed, alone,  drugged to the gills, concussed, restrained by two guys double my weight. Still the most he managed was a scratch.” She wiped at the blood on her cheek. The man who’d raised his gun stepped back. She nodded, hoping she wasn’t betraying how dizzy she still was. She turned to the rest of them, letting the steel of her voice press upon all of them.

“Now my world’s gettin’ a little less topsy-turvy every minute. My crew’s at your backs. And most a’ you are so green with a gun you still hold it wrong. So this is the last chance I’m giving you. You’re colonists--not gangsters. Forget this bullshit. Go home.”

An awkward pause lingered when she finished. The twenty or so thugs looked between themselves, and then back at the woman before them. Suddenly, she seemed a whole lot scarier than before, purple bathrobe notwithstanding. Slowly, as if trying to figure out how to disengage with the least damage to their dignity, the twenty people standing between her and the Tempest climbed down and slunk out of the hangar.

As she wobbled towards the Tempest, the hydraulics hissed and the bay ramp lowered. When no gunfire rang out, most of the crew crept back out into the open from behind their couch barricade. Like those she had just sent home, they stared at her. She tightened the bathrobe’s belt, suddenly self-conscious. They parted around her like water as she made for Kaidan.

He had hung back, leaning against the spine of the couch, probably to watch this crew react to their first taste of the _real_ Shepard. She might be in another galaxy where she didn’t have her right crew or her right body. She might have to use another woman’s name. But under the weight of all the things that were wrong here in Andromeda, she was still Shepard, burning bright and constant as a sun.

“Hey sold--” she started.

“You’re going to stop that now,” Kaidan said. She complied.

The sense of confusion and awe radiating from the crew prickled uncomfortably over her. One of the few perks of Andromeda was that she didn’t have to deal with the hero worship or idolization that followed her back home. Thankfully Kaidan was pretty much immune to her antics by this point. All he seemed to be was a little exasperated, so she focused as much as she could on him. Much of the drug had worked its way out of her system with the adrenaline, but whatever it had been had been stupidly strong. The floor still wasn’t behaving.

She misjudged the distance and bumped into Kaidan’s crossed arms.

“Ow,” she said, though the collision hadn’t actually hurt.

Kaidan looked down at her, doing his best to appear unmoved and unimpressed by the whole show.

“Welcome back,” he said drily.

“I am the most victorious,” Shepard said.

“The most, huh.”

“Tha’s right,” she said. All she meant to do next was lean against the back of the couch. But like before, the floor was misbehaving and this time the couch joined the conspiracy. She tried to scooch up so she was sort of sitting, but for whatever reason, the little movement obliterated what remained of her sense of balance. What should have been a little hop turned into a backwards slide. Shepard yelped as her ass slid down the slick suede cushion. She landed on her back with her bare, dusty feet sticking straight up in the air.

Immediately she made sure the robe was tucked around her. She was about eighty percent sure she hadn’t flashed anyone. Fuck, that left an uncomfortable amount of percentage in the other direction.

“Need help, o victorious one?” came Kaidan’s voice from above.

“I can take care of myself,” she said petulantly. Though as seconds turned to minutes, she could not seem to get instructions from her brain down to her nerves. At least the bay lights were pretty from this angle.

“Sure about that?” Kaidan asked, looking down at her. He wasn’t even trying to hide his amusement anymore. It was nice to see sincere humor on his face again. Even if he was definitely laughing _at_ her.

“I can get up if I want to,” she said, contrary to all evidence. “I’m...just thinkin’ I’ll take a nap here for a lil’ bit.”

“Not gonna happen. You have a concussion,” he said and pushed her feet over so she was lying on the couch more like a normal person. “Let’s get you to the doc.”

“Sounds boring,” Shepard said, kicking Kaidan as he circled around to the front of the couch. She grinned and said, “Why don’t we play doctor instead? Look--I’m already basically in a hospital gown. So you can be doctor this time.”

“I’m gonna ignore that.” He managed to keep his voice even, but even through her glassy gaze Shepard saw a red flush appear behind his ears. He leaned forward, trying to scoop the almost liquid Shepard up. “At least for now,” he added when he was close, so low it was almost just a rumble against her neck. Now it was her turn to glow, thought it was hard to distinguish from the flush that had accumulated from being flopped upside down.

She had sort of hoped to be carried bridal style to the medbay, but her asshole boyfriend instead hauled her over his shoulder with minimal dignity.

“Oof,” she wheezed. “You know, this is an abysmal way to treat your CO.”

“We’re not Alliance anymore. You’re not my CO.”

“I’m still CO of your heart.”

Kaidan laughed. “Dumb as that sentence just was, I can’t say it’s not true.”


End file.
